Lust (The Stripped Bare Series Book 1) (25 page)

Max

Sitting on the sofa, all I want is to go into the bedroom and get lost inside Jasmine’s body. I ca
n’
t, though, because it would be all kinds of wrong. Dexter’s been great but I know that we still have a lot of shit to talk through. When all of this is over, me and him are going up to the horseshoe to lash this out. I can hear Jasmine talking in the other room; she must be on the phone. My whole body comes alive when I hear her voice. I’ve never felt these feelings for a girl before. I want to be near her all of the time. When she isn’t with me I feel like I’ve lost a part of me. She’s the sweetest person I’ve ever known. The way she handled Dex earlier has made me love her even more, if that is possible. She genuinely cares about people. I know that she hasn’t been in our lives very long but it feels like I’ve known her forever. I want to know her forever.

Broken glass, that’s what it sounds like. Jumping up from the sofa I automatically head for the window. The two cockwobbles are sitting in their car oblivious to what’s happening. They don’t have a clue. I go to the door to get their attention. Shouting and waving my arms like a twat, they immediately open their car doors and head towards the flat. I haven’t noticed where Dex is, I thought he was behind me but when I turn back around he’s gone. There’s a scuffling sound coming from the kitchen and then a loud bang and it all goes quiet. My heart sinks. My whole body goes into shock. Fear resonates through me and I don’t move. I don’t hear. I don’t think. The cop is yelling at me but I don’t know what he’s saying. I hear him say Jasmine’s name and then he pulls me out of the flat and pushes me down to the ground. The cold floor is damp and hard and all I can think about is Jasmine. But I can’t move.

What a fucking pussy I am!

Get the fuck up, you dickhead.

You’re meant to be protecting your woman!

My legs shake as I stand up. Walking through the door I head straight to my room, straight to Jasmine. The bed is on it’s side and I find her huddled behind it. Her face contorted with fear. I break a bit more seeing her like this. She looks so small, so fragile, as I take her into my arms and hold her tight.

“It’s okay, baby. No one will hurt you. I’m here.” We sit huddled like penguins behind my bed and wait, listening to the sounds outside of the room. My heart hammers in my chest as I think about what I’m going to do if he comes in here to take her. I’ll put up a damn good fight. I wo
n’
t go down easy. I’ve fought for so long to have a perfect life, I finally come close and no fucker is going to take it away from me.

Dex!

Fuck, I forgot about Dex. Where is he? He was there one minute and gone the next.

Crap!

I was so consumed with getting to Jasmine that I forgot about my best friend. It’s okay; I know he’ll be fine. The cops will have taken him outside like they did me. They’ll have called for backup and they’ll get us all out safely. I hear a whimper next to me. Looking at her beautiful face, tears stain her cheeks. She trembles in my arms and I can’t control her fear. The sound of sirens fills the air and I hug her tighter, hoping this will all end soon.

I don’t know how long we sit here for before the door opens. I stand; ready to take on the twat, my stance ready for the fight. One of the coppers appears in the doorway, he nods and I see about a dozen armed police rushing past him. I faintly hear the sound of more sirens in the distance as I kneel down to look at Jasmine.

“It’s over, baby. We’re okay. You’re safe, baby.” She doesn’t talk. She doesn’t move. A paramedic rushes into the room moving me out of the way.

“Are you okay, sir? Do you need assistance?” a woman in a green uniform asks. I dismiss her, watching as the paramedic treats Jazz. They wrap a blanket around her and stand her up, taking her outside to the waiting ambulance. She doesn’t talk, she doesn’t make a sound. She doesn’t look at anyone. She looks straight through us all.

“She’s in shock,” the paramedic says when he sees my confusion. “She isn’t physically hurt but she needs to go to the hospital and be checked over. Do you want to come?” I nod my head and start to climb into the ambulance. Turning around I look to see if I can find Dex. He isn’t anywhere. Where is he?

“Just give me a minute,” I tell them. Stepping back out, I try to find someone who can tell me where my best friend is. There are lots of people rushing around and I can’t get any of them to talk to me.

Goddamn it, someone talk to me.

Walking back through the door of the flat and into the kitchen, I see the glass on the floor. The table has been knocked over and there’s mess everywhere. Dex won’t be happy when he sees this shit. He hates how messy I am and I’m nowhere near as messy as this. I think we may have to buy a new table, too.

“Excuse me,” someone says as they rush past me almost knocking me out of the way. I turn to see what they are rushing for. It’s probably that wanker O’Reilly. I hope he’s fucking dead. The cunt. I rarely use the C word but he I can’t think of another word that sums up the arsehole.

When I look down to make sure he’s dead, I see a lot of people all crowded around someone. His legs are bare. What kind of hit man comes dressed in shorts and no shoes? What a tosser. I recognise that tattoo. The dude has the same tattoo on his leg as Dex. It’s the Manchester City crest. We’ve both supported the same football team since we were kids. It’s another thing that has brought us together. Before Ma got sick we used to go to the matches together all the time. But since then I’ve not been able to afford it. Dex has taken me as a treat a few times and he still goes with the lads every game, but I can’t justify the price anymore. I remember the day he got that tattoo. It was his first one. He cried like a little bitch when the needle grazed his skin. I wish I had my camera; it was hilarious watching him squirm. It was the worst three hours of his life but he’s so proud of it now.

Moving closer to the crowd, I notice that he has the same t-shirt that Dex had thrown on this morning. What the hell is going on? Where is Dex? I try to move one of the people out of the way but they shove me back.

“Back up, we need to work,” he says to me. When he moves, I see his face. He looks peaceful, like he’s asleep. His messy black hair’s sticking up in every direction. He would hate that it isn’t styled the way he likes it. I kneel down near his head and look at all the people around him. One of them is pressing on his chest, when he moves his hand I see the blood. There’s blood everywhere. Someone’s sticking some kind of needle into him; I don’t know what they’re doing. I just want them to get off him so that he can jump up and yell ‘surprise, fooled you fuckers’ like I know he would. But he doesn’t move, his chest isn’t moving and he looks pale. His eyes are closed, like he’s sleeping peacefully.

Wake up, Dex. Wake up and tell me off for fucking Jasmine. Wake up and tell me that I’m an arsehole. Yell and shout at me so that we can make up and be best friends again. Wake up and we can go to a football match together. We’ll go to the pub and get wasted like the good old days before life got in the way. Wake up and let me tell you how much I love you. Let me tell you that you’ll always be my brother, that I’ll always be there for you whenever you need me. Wake up and I’ll be a better flat mate, I’ll tidy my room, hell, I’ll clean the bathroom if you’ll just wake up. Wake up and I’ll make you a cup of tea, we can sit at the table and have a chat about shit like we usually do. I’ll crack open the bottle of Jack and we can bang the world to rights. Wake up so that we can go to work. We can give the girls some shit, I’ll come and work on the door with you like we used to. We can tease the men as they enter and flirt with the women walking past. Wake up and I’ll do anything, anything you want. Wake up, Goddamn it. Wake the fuck up.

I feel wetness falling down my cheeks as they roll him onto a board. Stroking his hair, I make sure its neatly styled as best I can before he goes outside. I stroke the side of his face; it’s smooth and soft but its deathly cold. I shiver from the feel of his skin. They wrap a blanket over him and put him on the trolley, wheeling him away.

Leaving me standing in the kitchen.

Alone.

Jasmine

Dexter James Pointer died at 12.41 P.M. He died defending my life. He died a hero. I didn’t know him for long but during the time that I did know him he made an impact on my life. He was a good man with a good nature. He was funny, he was honest and he was a true gent. Maybe not to everyone but he was to me. He was a son, a brother, an uncle and a true friend. He was one of a kind and he can never be replaced or forgotten.

Max hasn’t been to see me yet and I don’t know what to do. I called my parents as soon as the doctor gave me the all clear. The police came to see me to let me know that they’ve arrested both Johnny Dunn and Blake O’Reilly. They’ve also arrested known associates and drug dealers in the London area. When they told me it felt like the whole world had lifted off my shoulders. I could finally breathe again.

That was until they told me about Dexter. I didn’t know. I was so wrapped up in my own fear that I didn’t even realise what had happened. All I kept wondering was, why hadn’t Max been to see me? I knew he was okay, he was coming with me to the hospital but something changed and I didn’t see him again. When I finally found my voice, I asked for him. I begged the nurses to find him but they didn’t know where he was. I’ve never felt more terrified. Even when I was crouched behind that dirty disgusting bin watching that man have his lights blown out, I didn’t feel this scared.

It’s like a really bad nightmare. I feel like I’m going to wake up any minute, and Dex and Max will be standing over me, laughing at my snoring. But I know that’s not true. This is real life. This is all kinds of messed up. I’m the reason that my boyfriend’s best friend is dead. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive me for this. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.

“Jazz, oh my God, are you okay?” Piper comes rushing into the room. She looks terrible; her mascara has run, producing black marks beneath her eyes. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun and she’s wearing jogging pants and a t-shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so…Well, normal, instead of her usual glammed-up self. She dashes over to the bed and pulls me into her arms, hugging me tightly.

“I can’t believe it, Jazz. I can’t believe he’s gone,” she sobs.

“It’s all my fault, Pipe. I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve stayed in London and faced the consequences. If I’d have just told the police what I saw that night none of this would’ve happened.” The guilt is eating me up from the inside. I can’t avoid it.

“Stop! You didn’t know this would happen. You didn’t know any of this, how could you?” She places her hands on either side of my face, looking me dead in the eyes. “This is not your fault, Jazz.”

“I don’t think Max believes that,” I whisper, woefully.

“Why? Has he said something?” I wish he’d said something, I wish he’d come to me, yell at me or something, anything. I miss him so much.

“He hasn’t been to see me. I don’t even know where he is.” Brushing the hair away from my face, she gives me a sympathetic look.

“He’s grieving, Jazz. Give him time.” I nod my head.

“Right,” she says, standing up, waving her arms around like a lunatic. “Where’s your stuff? I’m taking you home.”

“I have nothing to wear, Mum,” I say, throwing clothes out of my wardrobe. I sink down to the floor; the tears start to stream down my tired face. I haven’t slept for a week now. In-between the nightmares and the worry, I just can’t relax. Max hasn’t called, he hasn’t been to see me, he hasn’t even text to let me know that he’s okay. Piper says that he hasn’t been to work either. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. I’m hoping that today, I’ll finally get to speak to him. I know he blames me for what happened. I blame myself for what happened, so I know he will too.

“Here, this dress is lovely,” Mum says, holding out a black dress that I wore once on a night out. It’s a bit short for a funeral, though.

“I don’t know, Mum. Maybe I should just wear black trousers and a nice blouse?” I say, wiping my eyes. I’ve only just done my makeup and now I’ll have to do it again. I don’t know why I’m bothering; I know it’ll be a mess again by the time I leave the church. Mum has offered to come with me. She said it was the least she could do. She wants to pay her respects to the man that put his own life before her daughter’s.

We finally make it to the church. I decided to go for the trousers in the end. Piper and a lot of the other girls, including Michele, are already inside when we enter. I can’t see Max; he must be near the front. Sitting at the back, Mum grips my hand tightly as music starts to play and the doors open behind us. I daren’t turn to look, it all seems so final being here, seeing his coffin. The guilt I have inside me is overwhelming. I don’t think I can face his parents at the wake. As Bette Midler sings ‘
Wind Beneath My Wings
’, the coffin is brought past me. Max is at the front, I don’t see his face but I can tell from his shoulders that he’s tense. I want to hold him and tell him how sorry I am.

When they lay the coffin down on the trolley at the front, I see him turn as he goes to sit down. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that look on his face. His heavy eyes are glazed over, surrounded by dark circles. His hair is dishevelled and his stubble is growing into a full on beard. My stomach churns at the sight of him. Anger bubbles inside of me. Anger at myself. Why did I let this happen?

The vicar rambles on for a while and I shut down. The voices in my head quarrelling with each other over what I’ve done. There’s a part of me that knows that I couldn’t have predicted this, but then the other part of me blames me for everything that’s happened.

“Thank you all for coming today.” I look up when I hear Max’s voice over the microphone. His words sound strained. He clears his throat before continuing.

“As you all know, Dexter was my best friend. He wasn’t just that, though, he was also my brother. We may not have been blood related but that didn’t matter. We were family and I loved him. When I was asked by John and Denise to say something today, I didn’t know what I should say. I’m not great with speeches and words, but never in my life did I expect to be stood here giving this speech now. So, anyway, I’d like to read a poem that I’ve written about my best friend. He takes a deep breath. Looking down at the piece of paper in his trembling hands, he reads the words.

“I no longer see you, no longer hear you, but you're still here.

We no longer laugh, no longer talk, but you're still near.

You haven't left.

You haven't gone.

We may be apart

But you're always in my heart.

A piece of you is ingrained in me

A part you cannot see.

Forever there, forever held, forever in my heart.

I didn't know you were leaving, we never said goodbye.

You were gone before you said it and now you're flying high.

I don't know where you are, don't know if you hear, but if you hear me, Dex, well, I drunk up all the beer!

Goodbye, my mate, goodbye, my strength.

Goodbye my Brother, goodbye, my frien
d.
”

The tears stream down his face as he just manages to get the words out. Wiping away my tears, my mother puts her arm around me, pulling me in close.

“I love you, bro,” he says, as he walks past the coffin to take his seat. I can’t do this anymore. I stand, dropping the Bible from off the plinth in front of me. Everyone turns to look at me as I run out of the doors and away from the church.

An old oak tree sits alone in the middle of the graveyard. It’s in a part where the graves haven’t yet reached. Sitting down on the damp grass, I lean back against the rough bark and cry. I cry big, ugly, sobbing tears. I cry for Dexter and I cry for Max, I cry for his parents and his brother. I cry for everything he will never do, everything he will never see.

I don’t hear his footsteps coming towards me. I’m too wrapped up in my own grief to feel his warmth when he sits down next to me. It’s only when I feel his arm wrap around my shoulder that I know he’s there.

Am I imagining it?

Am I finally having a breakdown?

Looking up, I see his beautiful face. It looks tired and weary and most of it is covered in hair, but it is still the most beautiful face that I have ever seen. His dark hair hangs over his forehead. He doesn’t say anything, so neither do I. Instead, I lean into his chest and let him hold me, quietly, peacefully, while the wind blows gently against the tree.

“I’m so sorry, Max.” I can’t take the silence much longer. I need to say something. I need to tell him how I feel. He doesn’t reply, though, instead he pulls me in closer, kissing the top of my head. “Are we going to get through this?” I look up at him this time; I need to hear his voice. I need him to say something to me.

“We will try,” he says, his voice is gravelly. A tear slips down his cheek and I wipe it away with my finger. Taking my hand, he brings it up towards his lips and kisses it gently, kissing away the tears. “I don’t blame you, Jasmine. I think I’m too numb to blame anyone. But I have this anger inside of me that’s bubbling. I don’t know when it will explode and I don’t want you to be in the crossfire when it happens.” He looks sincere. I nod my head in understanding.

“I love you,” I say, quietly. I don’t know if he hears me but he doesn’t answer. He stares out into the distance, a glazed look in his tear filled eyes. We sit under that tree for hours, not talking. Just listening to the leaves rustle in the wind, to the church bells ringing out every hour, to the sound of birds chirping in the tree above, and the squirrels foraging for food. All these sounds that we don’t normally pay attention to in every day life. Life passes us by so quickly, we don’t take the time to stop and listen to the sounds.

Eventually, he stands up, putting his hand out for me to get up with him. Taking his hand he lifts me up into his embrace. He holds me tightly.

“I love you,” he says, and my heavy heart lifts slightly. Letting go, he takes my hand and we walk. We walk through the graveyard towards the cars. We walk hand in hand into the next chapter of our lives.